


Chrysanthemums (Lovesick)

by capitalnineteen



Series: Lovesick [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitalnineteen/pseuds/capitalnineteen
Summary: Barry Bluejeans knows what's happening the moment the first petal appears.And he knows how it will end.





	1. 44 Years Before Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family history.

Marlena pulled the door to her brother’s room shut behind her, the latch catching with a soft click. She sagged against the door frame, exhausted.

“Mom?”

Jerking her head up, she saw her son peering out of his doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes. “Go back to bed, sweetheart, it’s late.”

“Is Uncle Darian gonna be okay?”

Marlena sighed. She’d been trying to avoid this topic in her own head but now, at 4 o’clock in the morning, it seemed she was going to have the conversation with her six year old.

“Let’s get you tucked back in bed and we’ll talk about it.” She crossed the hall and pushed the door wide, letting the light from the hallway illuminate the bedroom rather than turning on the light.

Barry climbed into bed and she helped him arrange the blankets again. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair back from his worried forehead.

“Uncle Darry is really sick,” she told him honestly. “And he’s not going to get better.”

“The flowers are hurting him?”

Marlena nodded. “The flowers are… Uncle Darian loves someone very much, someone who doesn’t love him back and…”

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why don’t they love him back? Can’t we ask? Make them?”

“Oh, sweetie… Well, sometimes people just don’t. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s not that man’s fault that he doesn’t love Darian and it’s not Darian’s fault for loving him. He just does and… well, it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with all this love. So it makes flowers. But there’s too many and… they make it hard to breathe. And eventually he won’t be able to at all.”

“Like he’s swimming?”

“Yeah, like he’s underwater,” she agreed. “But for now he’s still here and we can love him and spend time with him.” She ruffled his hair and added, “And draw him pictures. And tell him about cool frogs.”

“And read my space book to him?”

“Absolutely, he’d love that. He’s the one that bought it for you.”

“I’ll read it to him tomorrow!” Barry’s smile was overtaken by a yawn. He turned over on his side and pulled the covers up to his chin.

“G’night, sweetie.”

“‘Night, momma,” he answered, voice already softened by sleepiness.

Marlena smoothed the blanket over his shoulder. Barry was so much like his uncle. They both loved so enthusiastically, throwing their whole hearts into it. She hoped when Barry found love it came back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first chapters are short but I wanted them broken down by time frame. Once we get in the cycles the chapters will be longer!


	2. 30 Days Before Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crush

He wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to the elf twins. They were unlike anyone he’d ever known. Most of the people he spent time with were bookish and quiet, awkward to the core.

These two were nothing like that. From the first day the crew were introduced they were like the embodiment of a fireworks display: bright, loud, beautiful, impossible to ignore.

Both of them were smart, too, of course. Everyone on the team was brilliant, the tops of their fields. 

They were both wickedly funny.

And, yes, Lup pulled his attention the most. 

By the second week of crew training he realized he had a crush. A fifty year old with a crush so painful he could feel his cheeks heat every time he was in the same room as her.

He considered dropping out of the mission. But this was the opportunity of a lifetime. Another month of training then two and a half months for the mission… in roughly a quarter of a year he’d never see her again. He could survive it, he told himself. And then he’d settle down to writing papers and giving lectures about what they’d found during their trip. He’d be too busy to worry about his silly infatuation.

It was just 115 days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first chapters are short but I wanted them broken down by time frame. Once we get in the cycles the chapters will be longer!


	3. 10 Days Before Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theories and justifications.

10 days until launch.

Every single day it was harder to be around Lup. And every single day he realized more and more clearly: if being on the Institute grounds near her was difficult, being confined to a small ship with her was going to be torture.

In his fifty years he’d never so much as had a crush. Between his mom, who’d lost her husband so soon, and what had happened to his poor uncle Darian, that had simply seemed lucky, smart.

He’d been on his own since his mom died, never particularly close to anyone. And he’d never felt bothered by that.

Being alone was better than slowly drowning for years like his uncle. Being alone was better than love gone wrong or disappeared too soon. Right?

Maybe this feeling was a side effect of working around the bond engine. That was an interesting possibility. Perhaps he could study that when they got back.

He should ask if anyone else was having unusually strong feelings about others. He knows he won’t. But he should. When the mission is over he’ll consider it. It’s too late to change things this time anyway. But the next crew could be warned.

To be fair, Lup herself was certainly worthy of inspiring such feelings. She was brilliant but in a different way than the many smart people he’d worked with over the years. Her intelligence didn’t manifest in hesitant conversations about the topic at hand. Instead she’d make connections to things he hadn’t considered. And she’d do it with jokes he didn’t see coming.

Not to mention, she was beautiful in a way that was hard to look away from. Like a luminous point in a dark night, nothing else seemed to exist when he could be looking at her.

He knew from the crew bios that both twins were incredibly proficient with their respective magical specialties. Lup seemed to shimmer with it all the time. Talented? Gods above, magic burned in her stronger than anything he’d ever seen. And, okay, he hadn’t been around magic that much in his years of labs and classrooms.

While Taako might use his as a flourish while doing other things, Lup seemed to constantly burn with hers, often literally. She’d dance a flame over her fingers while reading a briefing or sculpt fire into shapes while she thought about a problem.

So, sure, she was amazing. But it had to be the bond engine.

Because why would he have his first crush on someone who teased him constantly? There were times he was certain she didn’t even like him.

So why was he like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first chapters are short but I wanted them broken down by time frame. Once we get in the cycles the chapters will be longer!


	4. Lup Before the Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lup has a crush.

Lup couldn’t believe how much she liked their science officer. 

The first time the crew all met she thought he was just an uptight goobus in out of style bluejeans. But the more she was around him, the more she saw how clever he was, how hard he worked to try and make up for how anxious he was. 

He was unexpectedly funny. It snuck up on her because it was a different way than she and Taako were funny. 

And okay, yeah, he was a rumpled kind of cute. That brown hair, the way it was messy not in an “I’m trying to look like I don’t care” way but in an “I honestly haven’t paid attention because I was too busy reading this book about planar theory” way. 

He was always pushing up his glasses on top of his head when he was thinking. It was like he didn’t want to be distracted by visuals. Like he was thinking too hard to expend brain power on looking at things. 

When he did that she’d get distracted by his eyes. Partially because he had the deepest brown eyes she’d ever seen. But also because it was safe to really pay attention to him then. The poor guy was blind as a bat without his glasses on so he’d have no idea how closely she was watching him. Which meant he wouldn’t get all flustered and nervous. 

Though, actually? That was fun too. He was so damn much fun to tease. 

He’d blush -  _ blush! _ \- and stammer. It was completely fucking adorable. 

Taako would probably tease her but she was seriously considering asking him out after the mission was over. 

Or? Maybe before. Even if it went poorly, they’d only be on the ship for two and a half months. That was nothing. 

But  _ was _ it nothing... for humans?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first chapters are short but I wanted them broken down by time frame. Once we get in the cycles the chapters will be longer!


	5. The Day Before Launch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sipping tea in hell.

75 days.

The day before launch and already he was counting down to the end of the mission instead of eagerly awaiting the trip he’d been preparing for nearly a year now. 

Two and a half months. That was nothing. 

Three months from now he’d be back in his apartment eating canned soup and wondering why he’d been so caught up on his crew mate. On her eyes. On her laugh. On the way she teased him and his chest felt too full somehow. 

He’d look back and laugh at all this. At himself. 

It was fine. Everything was fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first chapters are short but I wanted them broken down by time frame. Once we get in the cycles the chapters will be longer!


	6. Lup at the Press Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerd Alert!

The crew filed out onto the stage. They were divided into two sections on either side of a podium on a tarmac filled with journalists from every magazine, newspaper, tv and radio station, or other imaginable source. A video screen was set up to one side and behind them was the ship - currently covered for the dramatic unveiling.

There were people here from science journals and talk shows and weird websites. Taako had been nosing around nearly all of them, trying to make sure their names were featured. He wanted to be sure that they had plenty of coverage so that Taako and Lup would be the most sought after people in their plane when they returned. 

No one else seemed to be particularly concerned with publicity. Certainly not Barry Bluejeans who was so nervous he’d barely spoken to any of the crew, much less any of the dozens scrambling for interviews. 

Lup sat near the end, next to Taako. On her other side was Barry. 

He was anxiously uncapping and recapping his bottle of water as the introduction video played. Lup didn’t understand how he could be nervous about talking in front of a bunch of people he’d probably never see again. Who cared what Jeff Jefferson thought? They’d be leaving the planar system tomorrow! That was something none of these chumps would ever manage. 

When the video finished Davenport got up and spoke then opened the discussion for questions. Lup was only paying the bare minimum amount of attention to what was going on. Instead her focus was on the drawing she and Taako were taking turns adding to, ideas for what to do with the last night before launch, and, yeah, maybe she had an eye on the science officer, too. 

Barry stood and moved to the podium to take a question. She watched as he nervously adjusted the mic arm. He cleared his throat and began speaking, still clearly anxious but as he spoke he became excited, absorbed in the science and possibilities that awaited them tomorrow. 

She leaned over to Taako and stage whispered, “Nerd alert!” with a teasing eye on Barry. 

He glanced over at her with a half smile that fell away as he started to choke. He grabbed a napkin and covered his mouth as he continued to cough. Finally he caught his breath, shoved the napkin in his pocket and, all interest in the question gone, wrapped up his answer in a rush. 

As he returned to his seat beside her, she poured water into his glass and passed it to him. 

“You okay, Bluejeans?”

He nodded and accepted the water, drinking the whole thing without stopping. Lup took the pitcher and refilled it for him. 

His whispered ‘thank you’ sounded raw and rougher than usual. 

“You sure?” she questioned. “You don’t seem…”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. 

Lup frowned and moved the pitcher where he could reach it. “Okay.” She gave him one more doubtful look then grinned. “You sure you don’t need mouth to mouth or something?” 

He went redder than he’d turned when he couldn’t breathe. “That’s, uh, that’s for when you’re not breathing. I’m uh… I’m breathing.”

She laughed. Flustering Barry was simply too much fun.


	7. Barry at the Press Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realization.

That silly, teasing  _ nothing _ of a comment was somehow the tipping point. 

Or maybe it was her smile when he glanced over at her that did it. But in half a heartbeat he went from smiling back at her to choking. 

And he knew. He _ knew. _ He’d watched his uncle choke for almost two years on those fucking daisies. He  _ knew _ what this was without seeing what he quickly spit out in a fumbled napkin. 

Stumbling through the rest of his answer, it was all he could do not to run off the stage. Two and a half months in a spaceship with her. How was he going to survive it?

As he made his way back to his seat it hit him. 

He  _ wouldn’t. _ He would not survive this. Maybe he could make it through the mission but… he wouldn’t survive. The petals would get worse, turn to whole flowers. Eventually they’d grow too fast. Or the flowers would be too large to cough up. They’d become too much to breathe around. And he would suffocate and die.

The thought knocked the strength out of him and he collapsed into his chair. He was scared to look at her. Even as she gave him water and teased. Even as she shot him concerned glances. He kept his eyes down and tried not to imagine petals lining his throat. Tried not to think about the emotion made physical that would eventually take away his ability to breathe.

He’d never felt so hopeless in his life. 

For the rest of the press conference he was lost in thought. He should resign. They should find someone to replace him. Someone who could have their mind entirely on the mission. Someone who’d have decades to study data and give lectures after it was over. Not someone who had just coughed up a death sentence. 

But it was impossible. They would launch in the morning. There wasn’t enough time to go to a backup. 

Hands shaking, he poured more water. Beside him, Lup shot another worried glance at him. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. 

He was anything but. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters are still so tiny! I think one more smallish pre-launch chapter and then things will be divided by cycles. Though, I guess I can't promise how large those will be either!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	8. The Night Before Launch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry spends his last night before launch with two things he's very good at: research and overthinking.

Barry followed the crew off the stage, barely aware of what was going on. His hand was in his pocket, gripping the napkin he’d shoved there during his answer. 

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’d just… 

He wasn’t in love with her. The thought was ridiculous. He’d only known her a few months. He  _ wasn’t _ in love with her so he  _ couldn’t _ be coughing up petals for her. He was just stressed about the launch, about the mission. He hadn’t been sleeping enough. It was fine,  _ he _ was fine. As soon as he had a chance to be alone, he’d look in the napkin. He’d look and it would be empty and he’d realize how ridiculous he was being. 

“Hey, Bluejeans, we’re gonna have a little last night on the planet celebration. You wanna ride with me and Taako?”

Barry looked up. Lup was watching him expectantly. “What? Uh… uh, no, um, I gotta… I gotta do something,” he said.

“Oh, well, then we’ll see you there, okay?” She pressed a piece of paper into his hand. Her eyes examined his. “You sure you’re okay? You don’t seem…”

He forced a smile. “Yeah, uh, yeah, I’m fine.” He glanced down to see an address and tiny, perfectly sketched map to whatever bar they’d chosen. He started to shove the paper she’d given him into his pocket then realized that was the same pocket the napkin was in. Somehow putting them together seemed wrong. He transferred the paper to his other hand and stuffed it into that pocket. “See you tomorrow,” he said, already walking away.

“No, you’re coming tonight!” she called after him. “Tell me you’re gonna be there!”

He glanced back, waved, and kept going. 

Barry walked through the familiar halls of the Institute training building. They’d been spending every waking moment in this place for months. He’d been here more than he’d been in his own apartment lately. 

It was quiet tonight. Everyone had been at the press conference and was now back in their offices and labs, doing the last minute work to prepare for tomorrow’s launch. Or they were out celebrating like the rest of the crew. 

He turned down another hall then into the washroom. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it. 

His heart was pounding so loudly that it was all he could hear. Hand shaking, he reached into his pocket. His fingers curled around the napkin. 

Barry closed his eyes and pulled out the wad of napkin. When he opened his eyes again he just looked at the balled up bit of paper. How could it possibly hold the most important piece of information in his life?

He stumbled to the sink and dropped the napkin on the tiled counter. Hands braced on the cold ceramic, he just stared at it. 

It took all his courage to fumble the wad of napkin open. 

And there it was. Nestled in the white paper napkin was a single long, thin, bright crimson petal. It was crushed and creased from being balled up in the napkin and clutched tightly in his hand but it was clearly a flower petal. He wasn’t sure what kind. 

It didn’t matter. A petal by any name was a death sentence. 

He looked up at the mirror facing him. His skin was ashen pale, eyes wide and shocked. He didn’t look like a man about to embark on the most exciting professional opportunity of his life. He looked like someone who’d just gotten his foot stuck in the tracks and looked up to see a train. 

The rational part of his brain stepped forward. It had been more than forty years since Darian died. Maybe it wasn’t a death sentence anymore. Maybe there was a cure now. He had research to do and he was very good at research. 

He picked up the napkin and started to throw it in the trash but then crammed it back into his pocket instead. 

If only he dared risk it, he knew exactly who to call. Before being picked for the launch team he’d worked at a college with a very prestigious medical department. There were plenty of contacts there who would answer any questions he could come up with as well as tell him things that otherwise he’d only think of days from now when it was too late. But he couldn’t risk the information getting out before launch. They’d cut him from the team but there wouldn’t be time for another scientist to go. With the alignment of several incredibly hard to track factors in the ebb and flow of planar boundaries, there wouldn’t be as good a prospect for launch for months. And that next launch window was already claimed by the follow up mission. If he didn’t go they’d either launch without a science officer or scrap this mission entirely. He couldn’t do that to everyone involved. 

He couldn’t do that to Lup. 

A library would have to suffice. And if he went to the University library a few hours away it was less likely anyone would notice him. He checked his watch. He had fourteen hours until launch. Fourteen hours to learn everything he could. 

In a daze, he left the washroom. He dumped his conspicuous, bright red IPRE robe in his locker and walked the familiar route out of the Institute grounds to the metro station. He bought a single use ticket rather than swipe his card. 

While he waited he paced nervously. The list of questions to research were spooling out in his head like a ticker tape, one after another. 

His eye caught on a flower stall, stopping his footsteps and his breath. He approached the cart reluctantly. 

“Hello!” the woman tending the stall greeted him. “Can I help you? Bouquet for your wife maybe?”

Barry shook his head and coughed. The cough scared him for a moment and he braced himself for another petal. When he didn’t produce another he looked up at the woman. 

“I was hoping you could tell me what kind of flower a petal is from.”

“Oh, sure!”

Barry pulled out the napkin and unwrapped the petal. 

The woman’s whole demeanor changed as she watched him pull out the napkin. She glanced at the crushed petal then gave him a sorrowful look. 

“A chrysanthemum.”

When he didn’t react, she turned and took a single stem from her collection of buckets filled with loose flowers. She held it up for him. Her voice was soft, apologetic as she explained, “Like this.”

The flower wasn’t the same shade as his petal which was a red he realized now would probably be a close match for the IPRE robe he’d ditched. The flower she held was a rich purple. 

It was also enormous, roughly the size of his palm. 

“Thanks,” he said, the word an automatic response even though she’d just shown him what would kill him. 

He started to go but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “My cousin had it,” she told him, her face filled with pity. “It’s rare, but happens more among florists and that’s our family business. Hanahaki is sometimes called the Florist’s Curse,” she finished, her voice turning bitter. “Sorry,” she added, looked stricken. 

“My uncle had it a long time ago,” he heard himself say. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he offered. 

The noise of an arriving train saved him from further discussion and he stepped away, heading for his train. 

 

—-

 

At the library he poured over medical journals for hours. There wasn’t much information because as the woman at the metro station had said, it was rare. Rare enough that little progress had been made in the decades since his uncle had died. Surgery was done with lasers now instead of scalpels but success rates still came with heavy side effects. Patients who survived were unlikely to experience emotions post surgery. Drug therapies had shown no real effect either before or after surgery. 

He spent a few hours reading about other “breakthrough” cures but none of them had any substantiating evidence. 

Finally, exhausted and numb from a deluge of information, he looked up chrysanthemums. 

It was a bitter surprise to see they were a member of the daisy family. 

Chrysanthemums were supposed to mean love and remembrance. They were also a funeral flower. Well, that last certainly fit, he thought. Maybe he could cough up flowers for his grave. 

The only useful bit of information he found was that chrysanthemum petals were edible. 

Of course, since producing them was going to kill him it seemed pointless to worry what eating them might do. 

But if he was going to cover for this during the mission he’d need a plan. Eating them would certainly be easier than trying to hide them in napkins and pockets, he supposed. 

It was chilly when he left the library. The suns were still hidden below the horizon. With the train ride back, he’d have just enough time to go home, grab a shower, and stop somewhere to buy an industrial amount of caffeinated beverage. If there were enough room left in his head after everything with the flower petals, he might have worried about showing up for launch without having slept. But then, the rest of the crew had been talking about going to a bar, so he’d probably be in better shape than they would be. 

Well, except for the petals that had taken root in him. There was certainly still  _ that.  _

The walk back to the metro station from the library was peaceful. It reminded him of his years on campus, staying up late working on a project or studying for a test, and the quiet of early morning when the only other people around were like him: exhausted and mentally numb but in a good way. He’d been so young, everything still in front of him.

And now, just as he was about to achieve something he’d never even been able to dream of: finding out what lay beyond their planar system first hand… he’d found out how little he had left.

It was infuriating. So pointlessly stupid. Loving someone so much it would kill him? Loving someone who … He might as well have been in love with the furthest star in the sky. Both were as likely to happen, as impossibly out of reach.

How had his mother stayed so calm? She’d watched first hand while her only remaining family member died, choked to death on an impossible love. She’d seen him grow weaker, less able to do things, until in those last days he hadn’t even been able to speak. 

The suffocating breaths his uncle had labored to draw had frightened Barry endlessly. He’d never learned to swim because being underwater made those terrible choking, breath struggling sounds replay in his head no matter how much time passed.

And now he was going to live it.

Barry stumbled to the edge of the path and dropped onto a bench. He bent over, trying to fight off the panic and fear that were coursing through him, sweeping away the shock he’d clung to and the mental exhaustion from hours of research. 

He was eventually going to choke to death on flowers. And between now and that moment he was going to struggle more and more to even breathe. 

His breath was coming faster. Tiny, shallow breaths as his head filled with too many thoughts. Uncle Darian’s face. The fear in Darian’s eyes every time he had another attack. The rasp of air when Darry could still manage to breathe. His mom’s struggle to keep her face neutral in front of him and his uncle. The sound of her crying at night. The empty flower beds around their house after Darian died. The grip on his hand when his mother, fading quickly after the chemo stopped working, insisted he not allow any flowers at her service.

It was too much. He tucked his head down, wrapped his arms around his chest, and cried. Long, wracking sobs tore out of him. He was losing everything. This should be the best, most exciting moment of his life and he was alone on a bench crying. And he couldn’t shake the fear that his mother would be angry, would tell him, “You’re choosing  _ wrong.” _

She’d never do that, never question his choices. But she’d wanted so much for him and he’d wanted so much to make her proud.  _ Was _ he choosing wrong?

If he stayed behind, if he gave up his spot on the mission, he could get the surgery. What would it matter to lose his ability to feel emotions? He was a teacher, a scientist, a researcher. He had no family left, obviously no significant other, and his friends were mostly coworkers. How would anyone even notice a change?

Maybe it wouldn’t be too late when they got back. But almost all the data said the best chance for a cure was surgery within the first couple weeks. He’d be gone two and a half months.

Two and a half months in a small space with Lup. He’d see her, work with her, every single day. And gods help him, he was looking forward to it almost as much as he was dreading it. 

A tickle in his throat drove that thought away. He coughed experimentally and held frozen, waiting for the choking, for the petal to come up. A slow draw of breath in. A careful exhale. Repeat. There was nothing in his throat, nothing stopping his breath.

Not yet.

He stood up. He was going. The decision was made, wrong or right, he wasn’t going to allow himself to question it anymore. He pushed his glasses up, wiped his eyes, and started to walk.

When he got to the station he found out the train wouldn’t come for another forty minutes. If it was on time, he’d still have the chance to go to his apartment for a shower, get the last minute items that weren’t already stowed onboard the Starblaster. But he’d have to find caffeine now, there wouldn’t be time after the train.

Asking for suggestions, the woman at the counter recommended an 24 hour donut place down the street. He smiled and offered to bring her a donut. 

He left the metro station and walked back out into the darkness. The donut place was too far away for him to make out the sign but he could see the glow of its lights in the pre-dawn fog. As he made his way there, he tried to focus on some coping strategies. For one: he’d try to be aware of good things. Like an early morning walk to a donut shop. Or the welcoming glow of a spot of civilization in the dark and fog. Or Lup’s grin when she teased him.

This time it wasn’t as quick as the petal at the press conference. This time he swore he could feel it break loose.

He stopped, leaning with his hands braced against the wall of a closed business. The bricks were sharp under his palms, scraping as he choked and coughed, trying to work the petal loose.

The thing finally came up and he pressed it against his cheek with his tongue, sucking in air freely again. Feeling drained, he leaned heavily on the bricks, forehead touching the rough surface as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

He counted the breaths until they felt normal again. Twenty three. That wasn’t good. If he was going to cover for this he’d have to get much better at it. 

He turned and pressed his back to the wall. The texture was harsh through the thin cotton of his shirt. He laid his head back on the wall as well and looked around. Across the street a light flickered on in the window. It was a neon sign advertising ‘New Health, New You’ in cheerful green letters. He stood watching the place become progressively more alert looking as the person inside went through their opening routines. 

His tongue went to the petal tucked against his cheek. Resolutely he shifted it and began chewing. The taste was bitter. It reminded him of the dandelion stalks he and the neighborhood kids used to dare each other to eat. He swallowed and imagined it was really so easy to be rid of the problem. 

Pushing off from the wall, Barry headed across the street. Maybe there was some  _ New Health _ miracle inside. 

The store was a strange mix of modern health and nutrition store blended with an almost cliche traditional herb shop aesthetic. Gleaming metal shelves were lined with plastic tubs in garish colors each proclaiming to be the most advanced blend for muscle building/digestion/memory/sexual prowess or whatever other wild claims they thought would sell the product. One wall, however, was floor to ceiling wooden cubbies with handmade drawers meticulously labeled with ancient, peeling papers naming herbs and other supplies. 

None of them offered any explanations for their uses. He wandered the space for a few moments, then, gathering his courage, approached the counter. The dark skinned woman at the register eyed him warily then held up her hand. 

“You’re not going to find what you want here. It’s clear you don’t believe in this stuff.” She jutted her chin up to indicate the merchandise on display. “You might as well follow the wind back out.”

Barry nodded and turned to go. He wasn’t sure why he’d even come in except that lingering bitterness on his tongue insisted otherwise. 

He turned again and faced her. “Please?”

She heaved a sigh much too large for her slight frame and much too weary for her scant years. 

She pulled her thick coils of hair back, up off her neck then let the mass of hair drop again. 

“Fine,” she said, shaking her head. She stepped out from around the counter and moved deliberately towards a shelf on the side. Kneeling down, she sorted through various bottles for a moment until she found what she was after. She stood and thrust a dark blue glass bottle towards him. It was wide and shallow, mostly flat yet slightly curved, like a hip flask. The paper label was handwritten and simply stated “Flowers” and the price: 23.50. 

“47 GP,” the woman stated as she moved back behind the register. “It’s the best I can offer you.”

Barry huffed out a laugh as he reached for his wallet. He didn’t know if the attitude was sincere or a show she was putting on for the kind of customer he’d made himself with that nakedly desperate “please.”

“The medicine or the price?” he asked before he thought better of it. 

She looked at him for a moment and her expression softened. “Drink it all. One go.”

Nodding, he paid and took the elixir. “Thanks,” he offered sincerely. He slipped the bottle into his pocket and left, somehow unsurprised when he heard the door lock behind him. 


	9. Cycle 10 - Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry hits a new low with the last person he'd want to see it as witness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes several references to suicide.

Standing on the deck with an ocean breeze and a trio of moons reflecting on the water should have calmed Barry enough to go inside and sleep. Instead his mind was racing faster than ever, with all the ways he was failing ricocheting through his head. That wasn’t even considering the fact that his stupid body had decided it was in love with someone that could never feel…

And then he was choking again.

Ten years now he’d been dealing with this; it was still just as scary and upsetting as the first few times.

He couldn’t breathe. Dimly through his panic he wondered, how could one thin little chrysanthemum petal completely stop his breath?

Fucking hell. It was stuck and it wasn’t coming up and he couldn’t breathe and this time? This time he was just furious. What did he even know about love to have to choke to death on it?

He was gagging. Suffocating. Clutching the rail. No room for air to come in. Spots in his eyes. Head pounding. Every part of his body demanded oxygen. All he could do was curl over the rail, desperately wretching, trying to get the thrice damned petal to come out.

Finally the fucking thing broke loose and came up. He could breathe again. He sucked down air greedily; deep inhales turned to sobs. Chest heaving, he collapsed against the rail and cried. Looking for a tissue, he stuck his hand in his robe pocket.

Instead of a tissue, he found the bottle from the health food store the night before launch.

He’d tried it a week into that first cycle. Other than making him gag on the awful taste there’d been no effect. It certainly hadn’t stopped or even slowed the petals growing in his throat.

Again he tried it the second cycle, third, and fourth. Again and again and yet again, it did not cure him. The petals kept growing. In the fifth cycle he’d saved it, then again saved the sixth year’s bottle. In cycle seven he’d drunk all three. All that had done was make him violently ill for days, on top of the petals that continued to grow in his throat. He’d given up on the ‘cure’ after that.

Now it regenned in his pocket every year as yet another reminder of how he’d struggle with this for as long as the Starblaster kept making it to the next planar system. Again and again, the petals got continually worse over the months until he’d reset just to do it once more.

Anger flooded through him, hot and furious. He threw the bottle out over the railing. It arced over the water to glint in the moonlight before hitting with a splash to sink down into the depths with the light.

How had any of this happened? Sure, Lup was great. But he was _not_ in love with her. It wasn’t like his uncle who’d lived with his boyfriend for a year before their messy breakup had left Darian choking up daisy petals.

He wasn’t in fucking love with her and he wasn’t good enough or smart enough or strong enough for the job they had to do and he wasn’t good at combat and he was slow and he was a drain on their resources and he was just _So. Fucking. Tired._

There were tears streaming down his face and he couldn’t stop. He turned and slid down the rail, crumpling to the deck where he sat, exhausted and defeated. For one wild moment he considered hauling himself up again and throwing himself over the rail like the bottle. How long would it take? He couldn’t swim. He certainly knew what it felt like to not be able to breathe. But then the next moment for him would just be opening his eyes next cycle, still in the same situation he was now only he’d have to explain what happened to him.

Barry slumped back against the railing. There was no way out of this. The petals were his own personal Hunger, devouring everything, and he had no idea how to fight it.

He’d been round and round these thoughts so many times over the years since the press conference and that first petal. At the time he’d convinced himself he was thinking of the rest of the crew: their mission would have been cancelled if he had admitted his disease. Now he felt selfish. Maybe they _could_ have found someone else. They’d have had a useful science officer instead of the fucking idiot they were stuck with, the one dying to flower petals, the one who wasn’t able to figure out how to get the light up from the water below them this year or keep the light away from the Hunger when they did get it, or even just _find_ the light if they didn’t see it splash to the ocean and sink out of reach. Maybe they’d have finished by now and not had to keep running.

The tears had slowed but Barry had dug himself into a deep pit of self-hatred. Head hanging down so far he could barely see over his crossed arms, he didn’t notice the sound of the door to the deck opening. The light footsteps were also easy to miss. But the voice that softly said his name was a voice that would always catch his attention. His head snapped up and his hands instantly tugged the open edge of his robe up to wipe his face.

“Barry?” Lup repeated. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

His breath hitched as he answered, “I’m f-fine.” It made the statement even less convincing than his appearance did. Realizing how obvious his lie was, he added, “Just… just need a minute.”

Crouching in front of him, Lup put her hand on his knee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Barry shook his head miserably, avoiding her eyes. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “You can… you can go back to whatever you were doing.”

_“Barry.”_

Her insistent tone made him look back up at her, even as he tried to press himself smaller against the railing, as if he could disappear from view and make her forget he was there.

“I’m not leaving you alone like this. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I’m…” She broke off as she resituated herself to sit beside him. She caught his hand with hers and pulled it into her lap, lacing her fingers with his and rubbing the back of his hand reassuringly. “I’m not leaving you sitting out here cr-…” she bit off her words then finished quietly, “...while you feel like this.”

Great, now on top of everything he was an emotional, messy burden. He slunk down even further against the railing, a miserable puddle of self pity. “It’s… it’s okay, Lup. Just…” He peered back up at her and the concern in her eyes silenced him.

“You _died,_ Lup.” The words were out before he could stop them. His fingers tightened on hers and he repeated, “You died and.. and…” He couldn’t tell her how bad the petals got after she died. How for the first time they became clumps. Couldn’t tell her that he missed her so much that he’d dreamed he’d just been talking to her - just a simple conversation - and when he woke up and realized she was gone and he wouldn’t see her for months the petals came so fast and thick he’d actually blacked out.

“Yeah, but it’s not a competition. Dying doesn’t even _feel_ like anything. I mean, yeah, dying isn’t fun. But being dead doesn’t feel like anything. We’ve all done it by now. But you and Davenport had the actual rough time last year.”

He nodded, grateful that she misunderstood his point. “Yeah.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot you were _there._ Damn.” She squeezed his fingers and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him to lean against her.

“Yeah,” he repeated. What could he say about how it felt watching her die? He couldn’t tell her that he’d stood motionless, ready to let the creature come for him next. He couldn’t tell her he _would_ have if Davenport hadn’t stabbed the thing with a piece of metal from the wreck they’d been exploring. He couldn’t tell her that again and again he’d been ready to give up except he’d have left Davenport on his own for 7 months.

Instead he simply repeated once more, “Yeah.”

Barry wondered how long she’d stay before she considered her attempt thorough enough to go back inside.

He thought again about climbing over the railing but, regen or not, it was no answer. Everyone deserved better from him. He would just have to try.

“Thanks, Lup. I’m, uh, sorry about all this.”

Her fingers rubbed his shoulder as she squeezed him in a one armed hug. “Hey. No apologies, okay? It’s rough out here. But we’ve got each other’s backs.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He leaned his head back against the railing and stretched his legs out in front of him.

Lup turned, bracing her shoulder against the railing as she faced him. “You sure you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering… What’s that?” She reached and pulled something off his shirt. Examining it, she asked, “A petal? Where did a flower petal come from? There’s no land anywh-”

Barry snatched it from her fingers and scrambled to his feet. “It’s nothing,” he told her, throwing it over the rail. “Just something from… just leftover from something stupid.”

Lup’s eyebrows pulled together and her ears stood straight up. “Barry?”

“I gotta go, uh, check on something.” He pulled his robe around himself like he was cold, tugging it tightly and wrapping his arms over it. “Um… thanks, Lup.”

He pushed through the door back inside the ship and rushed down the hall. Tears were streaming from his eyes again and he could feel yet another petal beginning to pull loose inside him.

Shutting the door to his room behind him, he sank to the floor with his back to the door. Coughing and crying, gasping and sobbing, all he wanted to do was curl up and die. He couldn’t let her know he was literally choking to death on his love for her.

After years of refusing to admit it, he no choice but to accept it. He loved her.

Fighting the fact hadn’t made it any easier. And now that he’d admitted it to himself?

He felt more defeated than ever.


	10. Cycle 10 - Lup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lup finds something that only brings more questions.

Lup watched Barry go, feeling completely confused, lost in a way she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. She stood, took two steps to follow him, and stopped. 

He’d been calming down but suddenly gotten more upset than when she’d first come out and seen him crying. What the hell had set him off again?

Stepping to the railing, she looked down. The ship hovered over the water high enough that even her elven vision could just barely make out the single spot of something floating on the surface. 

Using Mage Hand, she scooped as much water as she could around the spot and hauled it up to the deck to splash over the surface. The water ran off the sides via the drainage channels but, moving quickly, Lup was able to grab the petal. 

And that’s definitely what it was: a single petal from some densely petaled flower. It was a deep crimson at one end that went paler at the bottom, until it was a pale cream at its base. The delicate skin of the thing was crimped and creased as if it had been crumpled and squashed, evidence of rough handling all over it.

Lup looked back at the door Barry had disappeared through.

_ ‘What is going on with you, Bluejeans?’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A very brief chapter, kept separate because I'm still wanting these separated out by POV and time frame/cycle. Another, longer chapter will post in a few days!)


	11. Cycle 14 - Lup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Barry isn't at breakfast one morning, Lup is determined to find out why.

That night on the deck four years earlier was not in Lup’s head at all as she took her place at the breakfast table, snagging the next to last empty chair. 

“Where’s Barry?”

“I don’t think he came back last night,” Lucretia answered. “I was out on the deck drawing pretty late last night and I didn’t see him, anyway.” 

Lup dropped the muffin she’d picked up. “Really? That’s… that’s really not like him.”

Magnus sat up straighter. “Should we go check on him?”

“I’m sure Barold’s fine. This plane hasn’t been at all dangerous,” Taako pointed out. “Not like last year and those fucking winged monsters.”

“And yet we all made it through last year.” 

Lup glanced between her brother and Magnus, both of them watching her. “When have you known Barry to skip coffee?” she pointed out, voice tight. 

Not waiting for either of them to answer she turned to Davenport and asked, “Captain?”

“Try his stone, but yeah, go look for him. Stay in touch, though. He’s probably fine but I don’t want more disappearances.”

“Maggie?” Lup asked, pushing up from the table and heading for the door.

Shoving the rest of the piece of toast he’d been working on in his mouth, Magnus backed off his flipped around chair and pushed it under the table with a loud scraping sound. “Just give me two minutes to grab my gear.”

 

—-

 

They didn’t have to search long before they found Barry’s trail. There was an old temple library not far from the place where the Starblaster hovered. After speaking with a few librarians, they found one who’d recognized Barry’s description. She told them he’d been there for most of the previous day and happily showed them where he’d been working. 

“I’ve been expecting him to be by again today. He reserved some books and I told him they’d be brought up from our archives as soon as the paperwork was approved.” She looked apologetic. “I hope he wasn’t upset. They’re part of our arcana collection and those require an application approval before we share them.”

Lup paced anxiously, leaving Magnus to answer. “Oh, not at all. Barry understands, I’m sure. We’re just worried about him.”

“Did you check the hospital?”

Lup stopped short. “Fuck,” she whispered, turning for the door.

“Thanks,” Magnus told the woman. “If you see him let him know his family is looking for him?”

The woman nodded and touched his arm. “I hope he’s okay. He seems like a good man.”

He threw the woman a grateful smile and hurried after Lup.

 

—-

 

At the hospital they described their issue to a seemingly endless parade of employees before they were finally ushered into a back office. A tiny, balding man with a computer that seemed ancient even by the standards of what they’d seen on this plane, pecked away slowly at the keyboard while he asked them questions. 

“What is your relationship to this person?” He pushed round, rimless glasses up and peered at them owlishly through the thick lenses.

Lup and Magnus exchanges looks. 

“He’s my…” Magnus began, “...brother?”

“Look,” Lup said with a sigh. “We’re all... family. We’ve worked together for deca… uh, a long time.”

The man looked at Magnus doubtfully. 

“I’m older than I look,” Magnus said. 

Leaning forward, Lup looked at him intently. “He’s very important to us, okay? I can…” she looked away, blinking. “We have paperwork on the ship, I think.” She took a slow breath and Magnus rubbed his hand on her arm lightly. 

Forcing herself to act calmer than she felt, Lup started again. “We’re with a...essentially it’s a research vessel. Barry is our lead scientist. He came into town yesterday and hasn’t come back.” She sat up straighter and a cold air of authority settled around her. “The group of us? We’re all each other have. Trust me when I tell you that for him to not come back? It means something happened to him. We just want to find him and make sure he’s safe.”

The man pursed his lips. A muscle in his jaw flexed as he considered them. 

Magnus’s fingers went still on Lup’s arm. She was ready to leap across the desk at this man. Or summon a little bit of fire. Magnus’s hand on her was recommending patience but only for another moment. She could tell by the way he held himself stiff, by the way his other hand was slowly moving up to his shoulder. The movement was subtle. He might have been scratching his neck not readying to grab his axe. 

Finally the man let out a deep, put-upon sigh. 

“What’s his name?”

“Barry Bluejeans,” she and Magnus said in unison. 

“Oh come, now,” the man said, dropping his hands heavily. “If you’ve just come to waste my time then…”

“Barry. Bluejeans.” Magnus repeated deliberately. He leaned forward and that calm, rustic charm fell away. Instead, a hulking man with multiple weapons on his person sat waiting with decreasing patience. His hand moved from Lup and something about the way he shifted, while not directly threatening, said very clearly,  _ ‘I am a man who knows how to cause mayhem and would relish the opportunity to show you personally.’ _ Making more eye contact than the man was remotely comfortable with, Magnus slowly spelled Barry’s name.

The man’s eyes narrowed but his fingers settled back on his keyboard. “Bluejeans,” he said, over pronouncing the words as he typed, “comma Barry.”

He looked up at them. “Would ‘Barry’ be short for anything?”

Ridiculously, Lup very nearly said, ‘Barold.’ Barely suppressing the urge, she shook her head. “No. Just ‘Barry.’”

He poked a few more buttons, frowned, and pecked at a few more. His expression changed. All the suspicion drained from him. When he looked up it was with pity marked clear on his face. 

Voice gentle, he asked, “An individual without any sort of identification was brought in yesterday. Can you provide a description?”

Magnus’s whole demeanor changed. The menace that had been rolling off him abruptly dropped. “Can we see him? Is he talking?”

Lup was already reaching for Magnus to stop him. She recognized the man’s pitying look. “Pale skin, dark brown hair, bit of grey at the temples. Brown eyes. Wearing bluejeans, a white button up shirt, a red robe with a patch like this one,” she said, pushing her hair out of the way to display the IPRE patch adorning her red jacket. Steeling herself, she continued, “Show us his body.”

 

—-

 

They’d been at this for fourteen years now, of course there’d been deaths. They’d all died at least once. She’d seen Magnus, weaker and weaker finally simply not wake up on that planet full of mushrooms. She’d seen Merle knocked off a cliff, Lucretia shot, and Davenport eaten by an eyeless worm. She herself had died just a few moments after seeing her brother killed five cycles ago. And she’d seen Barry hit by a nasty spell that turned his skin purple before it choked the life out of him. But dying in battle, in their struggle for the light, was one thing. 

It was senseless and stupid and even when they knew they’d see the person again at the beginning of the next cycle, it still felt wrong and awful.

But this? This felt cruel.

Barry Bluejeans was lifeless on a slab in front of her and she didn’t know why. 

Over the dozen years they’d known each other, she’d touched him, of course. But now, as her hand reached to stroke his cheek, touch the rough stubble that wouldn’t grow anymore this year, she realized how intimate the touch was and that it was while his skin was cold and he was  _ dead. _

Her eyes filled and she blinked.

“Lup…” Magnus wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She wanted to fold against him, let him crush her in one of those trademark Burnsides hugs. But she couldn’t turn away from Barry.

“He’s cold.” 

“I  know, Lup.”

“He… he died yesterday and none of us knew. We ate dinner and laughed and Barry was dead and we didn’t… we didn’t even know.”

“Ma’am?” The officious little man who’d helped them so reluctantly was all deference and accommodation now. “You said your group wasn’t from around here. Would you like us to handle the b-… your friend?” 

Lup’s shoulders went stiff and she dropped her hand. She didn’t want to leave him with these people. Barry belonged with  _ them. _

“No,” she answered coldly. “We’ll take care of him.”

The man nodded. “Okay. There’s some paperwork and then we’ll arrange the transfer.”

“Lup, I’ll take care of it if you want to go back to the ship.”

Reaching for his hand, she shook her head. “No, I… I need to do this.” She couldn’t explain why, it just felt important; it felt like she owed it to him.

Standing straight, she steadied herself. She’d see Barry home once more until he was back with them again for real.

 

—-

 

Lup was holding Barry’s glasses. The glasses were an easy decision to make. He could always use spares. The rest posed a bigger question. Keep the robe? Yes, probably. The belt? A few years ago they’d all had a conversation about clothes and the nature of regen giving them a guaranteed new outfit every year. From the little Barry had said, she’d gathered he’d brought the least clothes of anyone. And being a big guy with a narrow range of fashion he was comfortable in, he’d not exactly expanded his wardrobe much in the last fourteen years. 

So they should probably keep the jeans too. 

It didn’t help the situation that she kept having to blink back tears every time she thought about the ship without Barry for the next five months. 

Thank all the deities Taako wasn’t helping. He’d either tease her for being emotional that the nerd was gone for a few months or - and this was likely the far worse option - he’d be gentle with her about it. She didn’t think she could take either right now.

Merle returned with whatever he’d gone to collect, his normally smiling face solemn for once. 

“Can you help me?” she asked. “I… I think we should save his clothes for him.”

“Sure thing,” he answered without hesitation. 

Merle’s moods could be jarring sometimes, feel completely out of sync with their circumstances. But standing in the medbay of the Starblaster together, they worked silently around the low table Barry was laid out on. Lup untied his boots and pulled them off, dropping them in the corner. Her hands only shook a little as she thought about Barry’s fingers tying the knots before he went off and died alone.

She was focusing on each minute step of the process because it was too much otherwise, made her feel like she was standing on sand that kept falling away beneath her. He’d be back. Why was this so hard?

“Huh.” Merle stood on a riser at the other end of the table, near Barry’s head. 

“What?”

“He’s…” Merle turned towards her and tugged at his beard. “I was going to place a leaf under his tongue. It’s…” He looked down at Barry, eyes sliding away from hers as if this was too revealing somehow. His voice was defensive as he explained, “It’s something my people always did. A leaf is ground and sky, earth and air, fed by rainwater and the sun’s fire. I do it whenever someone dies. When we have the chance, anyway.” 

Lup felt oddly touched by the gesture. “That’s okay. I’m sure he’d be fine with that.”

“Well, they must have something similar here. His mouth is full of petals.”

“What?” Ice claws climbed up her back as she moved forward. “Show me.”

Merle opened his hand over Barry’s chest, scattering at least a dozen crimson petals across the white cotton of his shirt.

It hit her like a gut punch. She’d seen this, almost exactly this. Red petal against stark white. She picked one up and studied it, trying to convince herself it’s not the same.

“I’ve seen this,” she murmured.

What is this? What does it mean? Why does it upset her so much?

“Merle,” her voice was small, strained, her throat dry. She swallowed, licked her lips, tried again. “Merle, how did Barry die?”

“Didn’t they tell you when you… at the… Didn’t they tell you?”

“He just said natural causes. It didn’t make sense but…” She hadn’t pushed it. What did it matter? Barry was gone. He’d be back. He could tell them then. “Can you find out?”

Merle’s voice was gentle. “I’m not… Death isn’t exactly my specialty here, Lup.” 

She looked down at Barry. She didn’t want to do this to him, really didn’t want to have to do this herself but she would; they had to know. Somehow she knew this was important. She began trying to distance herself from the idea of this… body as  _ Barry _ and think of human physiology. “Okay,” she said, and her voice couldn’t be called steady by any measure. She wasn’t fooling anyone, not herself, not even Merle. “I’ll just… we need to…”

He put his hand over hers. “I’ll figure it out, Lup,” he told her. 

Emotions spinning, Lup felt grateful tears prickle in her eyes. “Thank you, Merle.”

 

—-

 

Lup waited in the common room with Taako and Magnus. 

“I should go back to that temple, try to continue his research for him. I don’t know what he was working on but if they loan me the same books I’ll just copy the damn things for him. He can have them next year.”

She’d been rambling like this for an hour now, listing ways she could make herself useful, keep herself busy. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that all of them focus on Barry being back again in a few months.

“Sure, Lulu. We can go down there tomorrow. I’ll help.” Taako says. 

He was being too nice, too accommodating. She wished he’d gripe and grumble about how he shouldn’t have to do the nerd’s work for him. It would make this all feel more normal.

She lapsed into silence again, thoughts still swirling through her, steeped in emotions she couldn't name. 

Merle and Davenport came in and joined them at the table. 

Waiting for them to speak was impossible. 

“Well?” she demanded.

“Magnus, would you get Lucretia?” Davenport glanced at Merle then back at Magnus. “Tell her we need to have a crew meeting.”


	12. Cycle 14 - Lup (Pt 2 - crew meeting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew discusses Barry's (no longer) secret.

The silent glances between Davenport and Merle were grating on Lup. Her hands were flexing in her lap, fists going tight until she forced them open again, only to find them clutched closed again a moment later. The seconds between Magnus standing up to get Lucretia and the two of them returning seemed to drag on interminably.

The side eyed glances she was feeling from Taako weren’t enhancing her calm, either. She just wanted to know what was going on with Barry. Didn’t they care, too?

Just as she was about to stand up and go drag them in herself, Magnus and Lucretia arrived. Waiting for them to settle at the table so Merle and Davenport would say whatever they were waiting to share was almost worse than the minutes waiting for them to show up. As soon as the two had their butts in their seats, Lup practically growled, “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s going on with Barry?”

Instead of answering her question, Merle glanced at Davenport then asked her, “You said you’d seen that before? Did you mean you’d seen those petals before?”

“Yeah, I mean… I think so? Just one petal but it looked a lot like those.”

“Looked _like_ them or the same?” Davenport asked. “And when?”

“The same. I mean… I think so? Why does it matter? What the hell is going on?”

“Dav,” Merle said, “Lemme just explain it to them.”

The captain nodded and gestured for him to speak.

“Barry choked to death…”

Lup gasped, instantly picturing the scene of Barry, alone, unable to breathe, his eyes wide and scared. She missed what Merle was saying as she covered her mouth with her hand and tried to steady her breathing.

“Wait, wait, what?” she asked, as she became aware of his voice again.

Merle gave her a gentle, pitying look she couldn’t understand. “He choked on those petals.”

“On _petals?”_ she asked incredulously. “How did he… what was he doing with petals?”

“The petals came from Barry.”

_“What?!”_

Davenport takes over, “Barry has... _had…_ It’s…” He looks over at Merle. “What was it called again?”

“Hanahaki Disease.”

Across the table, Lucretia simply said, “That’s impossible.”

“I just did an aut… I just looked myself,” Merle answered. “His throat… lungs... completely lined with petals. It’s a wonder he was able to breathe at all. It was…. pretty bad.”

“Can we get it? Is this a thing on this world?” Magnus asked.

Merle shakes his head. “No, it’s uh, it’s not contagious. It’s…”

“It’s an emotional disease,” Davenport offered.

“What the fuck is an emotional disease?” Taako demanded. “Is he … _sadding_ the petals into being? Fuck, we knew he was a nerd but an emo nerd?”

“That’s not that far off, really. Hanahaki is a physical manifestation of an emotion. And, Taako, everyone is susceptible to emotional diseases - disease in the literal sense of dis-ease. You’ve never gotten so nervous about something that your stomach hurt? So happy you felt lightheaded?”

“I’ve never fucking grown petals inside me from being sad!”

“Well, it’s not from being sad. It’s… Hanahaki comes from unrequited love.”

Taako opened his mouth to reply but Lup put her hand on his arm and he stopped, looking at her questioningly instead.

“Who is he in love with?” she asked. She felt cold, like ice filled her instead of fire magic. For a moment she let the heat build in her hands but stopped when she realized her control was shaky.

“There’s no way to know that,” Merle said gently. “But… I think he’s had this a long time.”

“What?”

“He’s…” Merle suddenly looked a hundred years older. “Ever since we’ve been on the ship he’s had that cough, right? Never let me check him, though. Every planar system, every world, even the one where we stayed on the ship with the purifiers running all year… it’s always been a problem.”

The cold, nervous tingling inside her fell away, leaving her empty and grey. “So … someone on our home planet. Someone that’s… gone.”

Merle shrugged. “Maybe.”

“So what can we do?” Magnus asked. “Is there a cure? A, uh… a treatment or surgery or something?”

“He could have surgery but, from what I remember, most people choose not to.”

“Why the fuck…?” Taako’s voice had that quality Lup recognized from their traveling days, the one that said he was about five seconds from losing his shit.

 _“Love, though to you I am nothing_ _  
_ _These lungs fill with my devotion_ _  
_ _Should the petals be torn free o’ my lips_  
_I’d drown on surrendered emotion”_

They all turned and stared at Lucretia.

“It’s from a poem called ‘The Bouquet,’” she explained. “It’s just a legend though.”

“It’s not,” Merle said.

“Supposedly,” Lucretia said after a glance at Merle, “cutting out the petals also cut out the person’s ability to feel love at all,” Lucretia said as if reciting a encyclopedia entry. “But it’s not… It’s not real,” she protested again.

“It is,” Merle said. “It’s… well, I guess it’s kinda old fashioned. But it’s real. Rare as winter roses, but real. I’d only ever read about it. It’s kinda… crossroads of my interests, ya know?”

“What…” Lup began then stopped. She swallowed and tried again. “What do we even _do?”_ She felt numb. This couldn’t be real. _Flowers?_ The thought was ridiculous. Barry was smart and funny and strong and … he wasn’t growing _flowers_ inside him, that was stupid.

Merle combed his fingers through his beard. “There’s not, uh…” He glanced at Davenport then back at Lup. “None of us have any control over this situation.”

“That’s bullshit.” Lup crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned forward, looking down at the table. “Seriously, that’s complete bullshit. How are we… We can’t just…” She stopped, ran her hands through her hair and looked around at everyone, her eyes wild. “Are we just supposed to sit around and let this keep happening? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?” She said, pinning her gaze on Merle. “If he’s had this a long time then regen doesn’t stop it. And we’re just supposed to let him regen and die again? Again and again and again?” Wrapping her arms around her waist again, she felt tears stinging her eyes and throat. That only reminded her again of Barry, alone, choking, dying, and a sob broke loose.

Taako was out of his chair and kneeling beside her in a moment. “We’ll figure something out, Lulu,” he promised.

 _Unrequited love,_ Lup thought. _That’s what Merle said this was about. Barry must have been in love with someone before they even left. No wonder he’s acted so weird every time I’ve…_ She cut off the thought forcefully but it didn’t matter. All she could think about was Barry dying, Barry choking on flowers, Barry suffocating for a love that’s gone.

“This isn’t fair,” she said. “We’re talking about him and he can’t… we shouldn’t talk about him when he’s not here to stand up for himself.”

“As if he would,” Taako mumbled.

Lup shot him a dirty look and he just shrugged at her.

“It doesn’t matter if he would or not, it’s not fair. We shouldn’t do that to any of us. We owe each other…”

“Didn’t he owe us?” Lucretia asked quietly.

“Owe us what?” Lup responded icily.

“I mean he could have told us about this instead of leaving us to find out like this.” Lucretia shrugged.

“You think he wanted any of this?”

“Of course not. But what if there’d been a…”

“We can ‘what if’ all day,” Lup interrupted. “But we need to assume that if it had been relevant then he would have told us.”

Abruptly Lup remembered the mushroom planet and Barry’s constant struggles then. Breathing issues on top of one another and he hadn’t let it slow him down. He could have told them then and stayed on the ship. Instead he’d been right there with the rest of them.

Cold fury was burning in Lup. Everyone was sitting around talking about this like it was just some thought experiment, not their _friend_ dying again and again, struggling to deal with it all on his own. Worst of all was picturing a repeat of this next cycle with Barry facing the rest of them. _Well, fuck if I’ll let that happen,_ she thought.

“If there’s nothing we can do to stop this…” She looked at Merle for confirmation.

Merle glanced at Davenport again, exchanged another of those incomprehensible looks between them. When he turned back to Lup, his voice was gentle, careful as he explained, “The only way to stop it is for the person he’s in love with to love him back. So, uh, no, we can’t make that happen.”

A strangled noise escaped her. “Is there any chance he can ever… get over it?”

“Not usually,” Merle said. “But maybe, with the regen?” He shrugged. “Not exactly something that’s been researched.”

The word ‘researched’ made her think of how Barry would approach this.

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to feel more in control of this situation than any of them were. “Okay,” she repeated. “If we can’t fix this then let’s stop sitting here talking about him like this. It’s… it feels wrong. And… and we shouldn’t do this again when he _is_ here, either. That’s not going to help things. So…” she took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe we can figure out something in the lab, work on some kind of cure or…”

“I can talk to him,” Merle offered. “Maybe spells can give him more time, too.”

“Okay, yeah,” Lup said. “Yeah, okay,” she repeated, feeling better with a plan framed out. “He regens and we let him be, yeah?” She looked at each of them, pausing with each pair of eyes to make sure they were on the same page. “I’ll talk to him first, let him know that _we_ know, let him know we’re gonna work together to fix this.”

“Maybe I should talk to him first,” Merle suggested.

Lup chewed on her lip for a moment. Merle had been great through the meeting, through dealing with Barry’s b- through when they first got Barry back on the ship…

Still.

“No, I think I should talk to him,” Lup answered finally. Maybe it wasn’t fair but she didn’t trust anyone else to remember _Barry_ in this situation, how embarrassed he’d be by it all, how miserable, how long he’d been struggling with all this on his own only to have the secret come out against his will.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Merle said.

“Well,” Davenport pronounced with an air of finality. “Let’s meet on deck at sunset and drink to Barry,” he told them, referring to their usual routine when someone was gone too soon in a cycle. “Until we see him again.”

The group all nodded and agreed and began to drift off their various ways.

Lup didn’t move.

Taako touched her shoulder gently and she murmured, “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just thinking about Barry.” She rubbed her hands briskly over her arms, feeling cold. “He’s been dealing with this on his own for so long. It’s just…” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine that. Like, we’ve always had each other, you know?”

“What are you going to say to him?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve got a few months to figure it out, I guess.”

“Still want to go to that library and start copying stuff for his research?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to…”

“You don’t have to do it alone, Lup.”

She nodded, grateful. “Thanks, Koko.”

“Come on, you know these barbarians are gonna want food to go with those drinks later. Let’s go figure something out.” He stood and pulled her out of the chair, wrapping his arm around her. Their hips bumped as they headed to the kitchen.

Tonight they’d toast their fallen friend and in a few months he’d be with them again. _We have a plan,_ she reminded herself. _And Barry and I are great together… in the lab. We’ll figure something out._


	13. Cycle 15 - Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry regenerates to more attention than he's used to. It only goes downhill from there.

The first time Barry had died was after he’d been hit by a spell from a two headed lizard-thing they’d found protecting the light. One head had been spewing fire so when the other head muttered a magic spell they’d all been taken by surprise. He’d jumped in front of the twins and when he regenerated the next cycle - after an agonizing death he was unlucky enough to remember perfectly - the others had lamented his lack of coordination that had tripped him into a chestful of death magic. That time, he’d nodded and held his tongue. 

When the bond engine recreated him this time, he was standing at the railing like always, hands gripping the metal for support. The time it took for the threads of light to reassemble his being was a strange kind of infinite instant. It was like a dream; time lost meaning. In that moment it felt as if he’d always been there. He knew there was time before and time after but it didn’t matter because there was only the  _ now _ that went on forever as the bond engine returned him to his saved state. 

It was an awful, wonderful, terrible, remarkable thing. 

But if you wanted to argue a benefit of such an interminable moment, the way it separated your return to life from the grisly end you might have just met was a good candidate. 

When Barry drew a breath, for example, he wasn’t compelled to cough and choke even though he’d been doing just that in his last conscious moments before regenerating. 

He turned from the railing and found six pairs of eyes staring at him. There wouldn’t be any nodding and holding his tongue this time.

“Hey,” Lup said softly. “Glad to have you back.”

Nervous with all the attention, Barry’s words faltered even more than usual. “Uh, th-tha…” He stopped and swallowed. “Um, th-thanks.”

Moving to stand right in front of him, she looked over her shoulder at the others who all turned away quickly, leaving the two of them. 

“Uh,” Barry began, eyes darting between the retreating backs of the other five. “Wh-what’s, uh, what’s going on?”

Lip smiled gently at him, which only made him more nervous. “It’s fine, Bluejeans. Let’s go to the lab and I’ll show you what I worked on last year.”

Barry followed behind her, feeling as if he were marching to the gallows. 

_ They know, _ he realized.  _ I died and now they know.  _

His feet stopped moving and his hand went to the wall, desperately trying to steady himself. If they all knew then  _ she _ knew and that’s what this was about. 

“Lup,” he said. “You, um, you don’t have to…”

She turned to face him and her face was painted in pity. “It’s okay, Barry, let’s just go talk.”

Fresh misery bloomed in his chest, turning his stomach into a churning pit and making his throat tight. He couldn’t think of any argument to stop it so, shoulders slumping, he just gave in. 

Pushing off from the wall, he forced one foot in front of the other. His mind was spinning, thoughts finding no purchase. He needed some kind of explanation, anything at all. Yet there was just… nothing. 

One thing finally caught hold and he asked, “Can we… uh… can we not have this conversation in the lab?” His hand braced on the wall again as he came to a stop. As awful as this was going to be, he didn’t want it tied to the one place that was still a refuge for him. “Please?”

Lup stopped and turned back to look at him. 

“Hey, hey, Barry, seriously. Everything is okay.” She glanced down the hall at the lab door they’d been approaching. “Um, alright. Your room…?” She shook her head as his eyes went wide. “My ro-” His expression stalled her words before she could finish. “No. Not there.” 

“There really doesn’t…” Barry began. “I get it. Everyone knows.”

Her hand went to his arm and her soft voice was every bit as gentle as her touch. “Look, babe, it’s…”

The word was so innocuous. Lup called everyone ‘babe’ and he knew that. But it didn’t matter. Or it did matter. It made it all worse. His arm jerked away from her, the severity of his reaction made him bang his elbow into the wall.

“Sorry,” she said, shoulders dropping. She ran her hands through her hair. Her fingers caught on one of the bobby pins she’d worn for launch. Pulling it out roughly, she focused on it for a moment, twisting it in her fingers as if it were completely unfamiliar. 

“How about the storage room?” she asked. “That work?”

He shrugged. 

“Okay.” She moved around him carefully in the narrow hall, giving him a wide berth, doubling back the way they’d just come and cutting through the kitchen to the back stairs.

With no other option, he followed again. Usually the first days of the cycle were the best for him. With the disease reset he could go a whole day without an attack sometimes. Now it wasn’t petals making it hard to breath but plain old misery. 

She led the way into the storage room and then, letting him pass, closed the door behind them.

Barry stared up at the light for a moment. He’d come in here that first cycle, just a few days in, and let himself cry for everything they’d lost and for the death he thought he’d have on a planet full of animals.  _ ‘Yeah,’  _ he decided, _ ‘if we have to have this conversation this is as good a place as any.’ _

Stepping further into the room, he found a sturdy wooden crate and sat on it heavily. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. 

The sound of scraping boxes alerted him to where Lup moved in the room and he glanced up to see her arranging a space opposite him. She met his eyes as she settled and he quickly stared back at the ground, unable to face the pity aimed at him. 

“Look,” he said, folding his hands together nervously. “I get it. Everyone knows now. I can’t… I can’t do anything about it, though. I would have, if I could. But I can’t control it.”

“I know,” she said gently. “But maybe you’ll get over it?”

He winced. As careful and kind as her tone and words were trying to be, she might as well have run him through with a sword. 

“I know… we all know, uh, that you didn’t choose this.” She shook her head and dismissed that topic. “Anyway. That’s not what, uh, I wanted to talk to you about.”

Unable to stop himself, he glanced up at her, surprised. “No?”

“Well, for one thing, you could have… you can talk to us about this, you know? You can talk to  _ me _ about this.”

The sword that felt like it had run him through twisted, curling him tighter forward around a pain that seemed impossibly physical. He shook his head. “There’s no point,” he told her, his voice tired and defeated. 

“We can  _ fight _ this, Barry. Come on, you know you and I can figure out how to stop this thing. We’re on your side. Like, don’t you think Merle might have some insight...”

This was his life now. As miserable as he’d been trying to keep this from the rest of them, imagining himself as the science project they’d be experimenting with, the rest of them all watching him with pity, it was so much worse. 

But just like this discussion, there was no other option. And option or not, now he owed her somehow. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel responsible for this… for him…

For him dying. Again and again. 

He couldn’t find much fight in him on his own behalf anymore. But for Lup? For her to not feel bad that she didn’t return his feelings? Well, he’d do what he could for her.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

He forced himself to meet her eyes again. Taking a deep breath, he let it back out slowly. “Yeah.”

The smile she aimed at him was painful to look at. His chest felt full. Just that bit of happiness from her washed through him like a tidal wave. 

“Hey, for what it’s worth? Whoever you were…” She’d begun standing up but paused and aimed an apologetic smile at him. “Sorry, I don’t know the circumstances. I just wanted to say… they missed out.”

Barry had also started to stand up but dropped back to the crate like a sack of potatoes. She thought…? Did Lup think he’d… 

Slowly he realized: she must have thought there’d been someone back home. It was funny, really. He almost laughed. On the one hand it was sort of insulting. But on the other hand? Well, at least he had some secret that still belonged to him. And Lup didn’t think this was about her. He’d cling to what little relief that offered. 

“Thanks,” he answered, standing up. 

“I’m serious. You’re a good guy. We’re lucky to have you.”

The snort escaped him before he could even consider stopping it. 

“What does that mean?”

“Come on, Lup,” he countered. “Really? Lucky to have the guy who hasn’t figured out tracking the light, stopping the Hunger, and can’t even make it through a full cycle now cause he’s dying to flower petals?” He shook his head dismissively. “Y’all deserve better.”

“Mmm mmm, Barry. No. Those first two things aren’t just on your head and that last thing isn’t fair either. And anyway, we’re gonna fix all of it.”

He didn’t comment, just stepped around her and out of the room. 

“Barry?” The gentle question she made of his name stopped him in his tracks. 

Breath held, he just stood and waited. 

She came to stand beside him and laid her hand on his arm so delicately that he forced himself to remain still. Her fingers felt so soft and warm on his skin; for a single wild second he imagined wrapping his arms around her and kissing her until they were both breathless. The air hitched in his lungs and stuttered out in a ragged exhale. 

The thought disarmed the last of his defenses. “I’ve been fighting this for…” he pulled in a harsh breath, struggling to hold back his emotions. “...for a long time and…” his eyes went to hers, trying to make her understand. “Lup, it’s getting worse not better.”

“But you were doing it alone!” she countered. “You have to let us try to help you. Together we can fix this!” Her fingers had gone tight on his arm and he concentrated on the pressure to ground him, try and keep him settled in reality instead of some fantasy where the only cure he knew of was available to him, the fantasy where he kissed her and she kissed him back just as desperately. 

“Lup, I…” abruptly his words cut off. 

He was choking. 

He bent over, desperately trying to work the petal loose. Worse than the petal and his stopped breath was the keen awareness that Lup was watching, that she  _ knew _ what this was. All those times before it had just been that allergy or sensitivity or whatever else they blamed his coughing and choking fits on. 

But this time she knew that a flower petal had grown in him, a literal symbol of his unrequited love, the work of his body killing him slowly on his Stupid. Fucking. Emotions. 

Braced on the wall, he pressed his hand hard against the paneled surface. He’d found that helped sometimes; he could concentrate on some small detail and let his body deal with the-

Lup’s hand rubbed over his back, warm even through his cotton shirt and heavy IPRE robe. She was murmuring softly to him as well, “Shhh, let it work free, you’re okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

Tears filled his eyes. Why did she have to be so kind to him? Maybe if she wasn’t so amazing he  _ could  _ have gotten over it. 

The petal tore loose and he sucked in air. 

She continued rubbing his back and reassuring him as his breathing settled. 

No, it didn’t matter how she treated him, he realized. She was kind to him, of course. Even when she teased, it was with a spark in her eye that said, ‘Play with me!’

And she was brilliant, bold, beautiful, funny, powerful, and so many other wonderful, unbelievable things. But it wasn’t any one of those traits. It was all of them. It was  _ her.  _

Yes, his throat was producing petals for this incredible woman. But she was  _ everywhere.  _

His skin burned with the memory of each fleeting touch from her. His eyes held the image of her face so clearly he could see her with them closed. Her name sat on his tongue like a flavor, his favorite taste. 

Blood moved through his arteries and veins, out through his heart and back again; every drop, every  _ cell, _ seemed full of her. 

Resolutely, he bit down on the petal he’d coughed up, chewing it as he had so many times before to get rid of the evidence. This petal was bittersweet; the sweet-sour taste so strong his eyes might have watered if they weren’t already filled with tears. He choked it back down and sagged against the wall, exhausted in a way so much more than physical. 

“Better now?” she asked, her hand still making slow circles on his shoulder. 

Barry laughed. He had no answer for that question.


	14. Cycle 17 - Lup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a world where the only other living beings are actually robots, Lup makes a discovery.

Lup stood up and stretched. She’d been hunched over for a while, trying to pry the electronic panel off of a workstation but it just wasn’t budging. Blowing it up would solve the problem but she’d be unlikely to salvage anything useful out of it afterwards.

Kicking the offending equipment, she yelled, “Taako! I’m gonna head back to the ship for some more tools.”

There was a noise of acknowledgement from the pile of debris Taako was currently looting. 

“Need anything?” she asked.

A muffled curse was followed by, “Nope!” Before she could consider asking anything else there was a lot of banging and more cursing. He must be having similar problems to her. 

Besides being irritated by the stubborn fixture, she also wanted to check on Barry. They’d all been taking turns, everyone keeping tabs on him. He’d probably noticed but he hadn’t complained about it yet. Of course, the subject of his flowers was one he’d go to nearly any lengths to avoid.

 _Can hardly blame the dude,_ she thought. _In his place I’d do the same._

Taking the elevator up to the next level, she started looking around for him. He’d found some books on one of the upper levels last month and had been working his way through them, usually while camped out on the deck of the Starblaster. But sometimes he went out exploring, too. Since working with Merle on some kind of treatment - something that was working far better than anything they’d come up with in the lab - he’d been making it longer between coughing spells. Still, they were at the point in the cycle they needed to stick closer to him. 

Nearing the ship, she heard him talking. Following the sound of his voice, she tried to figure out who he was speaking to. It didn’t sound like any of the crew so it must be one of the robots of this world. 

 _What would a person who’d housed their soul in a robot for centuries think of a body growing flowers,_ she wondered. 

The thought disappeared when she heard a yelp of pain from Barry. She was running before she consciously decided.

“Barry! Are you-?” 

Lup stopped short. Barry was squatted down beside a small robot. He was biting his lip in concentration and, as she watched, he used the side of his hand to push his glasses up. The motion left a black smudge across his cheek.

Her stomach twisted and she frowned as she laid her hand on her belly. He was fine, what was she worried about?

Forcing a smile onto her face, she strolled forward. “Whatcha doing, Bluejay?”

Barry glanced up then looked back down at his work. “Hey, Lup. Just trying to - dammit! - just trying to, uh, fix this…” There was a buzz and he snatched his hand back with another yelp. 

Lup took another step forward then stopped as the robot’s light flashed on and off quickly. Barry touched the robot again and once more, a buzz and a yelp as he yanked his hand away, shaking it. 

“I can’t find the problem,” he told her, scratching his head and smearing more black across his temple. “Their frame is bent and making it hard to move - that’s what I was originally trying to fix - but I can’t find this short anywhere.”

He pushed his glasses up then rubbed his ear, trailing more marks across his face. 

Lup struggled not to laugh. The robot’s lights flickered again and that’s when it hit Lup. They were _laughing._ The little bot zapped Barry again and as he yelped and swore the lights flashed faster and the little dish on top what she thought of as the robot’s head swiveled towards her.

“Oh, man,” Barry said, “You really got me that time.” He leaned back and forth, visually inspecting the robot. “Other than the bent frame making you pull to the right, you seem to be operating fine! I just don’t get the…” He’d reached forward once more as he was talking, opening the door that swiveled open to reveal the interior workings of the robot. This time he managed to push the hatch back to see better before he was shocked again. 

“It’s so random! It doesn’t seem to…” This time he stopped because he realized Lup was laughing. She’d been unable to stop herself. 

Shaking her head, she tried to contain her laughter enough to explain. Before she could, the robot rolled forward, bumping into Barry and zapping him again. She couldn’t help it, she dissolved into laughter again. 

He looked back and forth between her and the robot, her shaking shoulders and the robot’s flashing lights and twisting receptor dish. 

Something fluttered inside her.

“Oh,” he said, drawing the single syllable out. “I see.” 

Barry gave a little snort of laughter and pushed his glasses up again, adding yet another smear to the collection of black marks on him. That set her off again and she bent over laughing, arms wrapped around her stomach as the giggling fit brought tears to her eyes.

When she could speak, she tried to explain, “Your face…” Running her thumb over his cheek, she showed him the black that she rubbed off. She reached for his hand and pulled it up for him to see the grime that he’d inadvertently transferred to his face again and again.

After confirming his other hand was clean, he tried to wipe the marks on his cheek. All he did was manage to smear the two separate streaks into a single large blotch.

“Let me,” she told him, pulling her sleeve down over her hand. With the edge of the sleeve she rubbed at his cheek. The motion slowed as she met his eyes.

The world seemed to tilt and she dropped her hand self-consciously. “I… uh…” Lup swallowed and licked her lips then tried to speak again. “It’s, um, it’s not going away.”

His eyes darted back and forth between hers like he was searching for something. The smile slid away from his lips. “That’s okay,” he told her. “I’ll… uh… get to it later.” He pushed his glasses up again, this time using his clean hand. “I should probably finish fixing this problem first,” he said, turning back to the robot.

Offering the robot a smile he said, “If you’re done shocking me I think I can get that frame straightened, okay?”

The robot whirred and buzzed in response, their lights flashing. This time when Barry reached for the open hatch he wasn’t shocked.

Lup however felt like she’d had every bit of the robot’s electricity sent through her. “I’m just gonna head to the ship,” she told him. “I’ll, um…” She shrugged and made her mouth curve into a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

As she walked away she could feel him watching her. She didn’t let her gait change, appearing unconcerned and completely normal as she continued towards the ship. 

Once aboard, though, she didn’t go to the tool station. Instead, she went straight to her bunk and closed the door. 

 _Barry?_ she thought. _Do I really have feelings for Barry Bluejeans?_

The question was pointless. She knew she did. She was in love with the guy. Leaning back against the door she tilted her head up and closed her eyes. 

 _Great work_ , Lup told herself. _Absolutely stellar job. Fall in love with the sweetest, softest nerd you’ve ever seen. He just happens to still be in love with someone who died nearly twenty years ago, that’s all. I sure can pick ‘em._

She slid down the door to sit on the floor, crossed her arms on her knees, and bent her head to lay on her arms. 

 _Oh, gods, Taako would laugh,_ she thought. _I finally fall for a guy and he’s pining himself to death for someone else._

She forced a laugh. It was hilarious. All those times she’d teased Taako for having a crush on some handsome face. All those times he’d wondered how she could date someone for a week then move on, untouched. All those times she’d laughed off the possibility she’d every have any long term relationship other than the one with her sibling. No one had ever really mattered in her life besides Taako. But now they were stuck with these five other people and they’d become a kind of family.

Now she was in love with someone and it was hopeless.

She’d never felt less like laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this I hadn't realized just how sad all these sweet moments would become when you added Hanahaki...


	15. Cycle 17 - Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Cycle 17 draws to an end, the crew has a mystery to investigate and someone has to stay behind on the ship.

Barry’s anxiety was spiking just listening to the crew discuss going after the power source that Taako and Lup had found. Hearing them all talk about spell options for underwater breathing had him struggling to keep his breath while still safe on the ship.

“Look, um…” Barry stared down at his denim covered legs rather than meet the others’ eyes. “I don’t think I can, uh, go down there with y’all,” he admitted quietly. “So, uh, I’ll stay with the ship while, uh, while you guys check it out.” 

The silence in response finally made him look up. Everyone was glancing around at one another.

“Okay, I’ll say it… I don’t think we should leave _him_ as our last resort on the ship.”

Barry slunk down into himself at Merle’s words.

“What?” Merle asked when more awkward silence was the only response. “I’m just saying… Dav and I can stay. You kids can handle this.”

“You’ve been so into the history of this place and you’re going to pass up the opportunity to go down into the lowest level and see what remnants can be found of the society?” Lucretia asked Merle, her voice light but surprised. 

Davenport jumped in before Merle could respond. “We don’t know what we’re gonna find down there, we should have all hands that could possibly go… I’m, I’m coming - Barry’s fine.” He glanced over at Barry, who was still hunched in on himself as if he could disappear right into the couch he was sitting on. “Barry can - I’ve been showing Barry how to fly the ship, he’ll be able to get us out.” 

Barry met the Captain’s eyes and nodded. “I can do this, I swear.” At the time he’d thought the lessons were just a good way for Davenport to fill his time slot of babysitting him. But now he saw how useful it really was. Clearly they would all need to learn this skill.

He felt another pair of eyes on him and turned to see Lup watching him. There was an unreadable look on her face. After seventeen years, he’d thought he’d learned to recognize all her many subtle facial expressions. But in the last few months, again and again, he’d been unable to figure out what she was thinking when he caught her looking at him.

“I can do this,” he promised again, meeting her eyes.

“I know you can,” she answered. Then she forced a smile. He knew it wasn’t a true, comfortable smile, but he appreciated the effort.

“Pssh,” Taako said as he moved past. “Probably worried about something nerdy like...ear infections or some shit. Am I right?”

Barry coughed and nodded. “Something like that.”

“Okay, then let’s roll,” Magnus interjected. 

Merle let out a long sigh. “Alright, alright, keep your britches on, boy-o.”

There was relief in Davenport and Lup trusting him with this but, even though it had been his own idea, there was also sadness in once again not being part of the group. 

He watched them prepare, organizing for their descent, and felt the distance between himself and the rest of them widen. It was just one more thing placing him separate from the group.

Ever since they’d found out about his disease, he’d felt like the child of six parents - a child who couldn’t be trusted alone.

 _That’s not fair,_ he told himself. 

They’d been patient and understanding. No one had blamed him or pointed out how much better off they might be if he’d bowed out of the mission. In return he was trying to be patient and understanding about how they were dealing with it and kept his own silence on the constant feeling of being babysat.

Since his secret had come out, he’d scarcely been left on his own for more than an hour or so. He’d never seen a schedule of who was responsible for watching him and when, but he was nearly convinced such a thing must exist. 

And Merle had brought up an extremely valid point: he wasn’t the one they should trust to get the ship out if anything happened. But he couldn’t go down there with them, either. Just the thought of trying to follow them into the water made not just his throat but his whole body lock up; his muscles seemed to stop responding to his demands. He forced himself to stop thinking about it before he brought on another attack.

Wishing them all luck, he stood and headed to the bridge. He’d take the ship as close to their entry point as possible and be ready to get them out as quickly as he could. 

Once they left the ship there was little he could do but wait. He kept his stone of farspeech nearby in case they tried to signal him but he wasn’t expecting any communication while the crew were underwater. 

Barry stayed at the bridge, anxiously awaiting word that they were okay. He couldn’t stop imagining ways things could go wrong for the six of them underwater. 

The minutes ticked by slowly. What was going on? Would he know if something happened? Mentally he kicked himself for not asking for a signal or a time frame. Then he chastised himself for considering that; the team had no way of knowing how long their underwater expedition would take. 

For hours he sat at the captain’s chair and waited. 

Again and again he went over all the things he’d done wrong. He should have brought up some research to work on while he waited. He should have gone with them. He should have admitted he didn’t know how to swim. He shouldn’t have fallen in love with Lup. He shouldn’t have even been on the crew. He should have admitted his disease the moment he knew about it. He should have let them launch with someone more useful in his place.

Then he began running scenarios in his head. If he didn’t hear from them, at what point should his concern for the rest of the crew become concern for the ship and its safety for the last week of the cycle? If something happened to them, could it be something that would come for the ship next? As the last person on the ship there was no way he could go try to find any of them, it was far more important to escape when the barrier between planes allowed it again. 

He considered every checklist and safety protocol he’d ever discussed with Davenport or before, with the trainers on their home planet. He thought of every threat they’d faced over the years as they adapted to their new lives. He tried to remember everything Davenport had told him about piloting the ship through the Hunger’s descent, about the way the Hunger moved and the ways to avoid it.

When his stone crackled to life with word that they were approaching the ship, tears of relief fell. He closed his eyes and offered grateful thanks to any deity who might be listening. He’d been terrified for them, terrified that he’d let them down, terrified that he’d fail somehow, and that it would be the end of everything.

As soon as he heard them board the ship, he was out of his seat and going to meet them. He wanted to see them, see that his family was okay.

He was so busy feeling grateful for their safe return that it took him a moment to realize that they were all abnormally quiet. In their years together, such silence was exceedingly rare. So many people - all with such big personalities - could rarely produce quiet. 

Drifting to a stop in the doorway of the common room, he looked from face to face, searching for a clue as to what was going on. 

“Everything okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Lup answered. She glanced at him and offered a tense smile. Her eyes darted to her brother then back to Barry. “Yeah, everything’s okay.”

“You’re relieved of the bridge,” Davenport said as he approached Barry and the doorway he stood in that lead to the command center of the ship. “I’ll take over again, thank you.” 

“Um, sure, Captain.” Barry moved aside to let him pass, frowning slightly at the overly formal wording. 

“Taako? You wanna help me start dinner?” Lup asked. 

“I’ll handle it,” he answered. Before she could reply he insisted, “You can trust me.”

Her mouth pulled into a flat line then she responded, “I know that, Taako.”

Taako looked down at something in his hand. “Just gonna go put this bad boy somewhere safe first,” he mumbled.

“We’ve got a few more days. I’m gonna go offer training to the ones staying,” Magnus said. “Maybe see if we can scare up some more weapons.”

“Thanks, Maggie. Let me know if I can help.”

The fighter stopped and looked back at Lup. “Thank _you,_ Lup,” was all he said before turning and heading back to the ship’s exit. 

Barry looked around. Everyone had disappeared except Lup. He’d rarely seen a room clear so quickly. 

“Is everything okay?”

Lup’s shoulders sagged, her whole demeanor changing with the shift of her body. She seemed... _fragile._

“Yeah, barely,” she answered, dropping onto the couch and pulling a pillow into her lap.

Picking at the seam on the pillow, she chewed on her lip for a moment like she was considering something. “Barry, do you…” She stopped again then suddenly looked right at him, her eyes intense. “Do you think it’s okay to hope something even if it might not be true? Like if you want it badly enough and work hard enough you can make it happen?”

His eyebrows pulled down and he waited in case she explained further. When she held her silence he offered, suddenly nervous, “I, uh, I think sometimes hope is, um, all we’ve got, Lup.”

“I’ve been thinking about the planes we don’t save… the ones where we don’t find the light.”

“Oh.” He felt strangely disappointed. Moving to the sofa, he took a seat at the far end.

Lup scooted closer and tossed the pillow behind her. “I don’t think it’s just _over_ for the planes that get absorbed. It can’t be.”

He wasn’t sure he understood. “You… you think they can still be saved?” 

“Don’t you?” she asked. “I mean, no one else seems to feel that way.” She offered him a cautious smile, like she was revealing something. “I always thought you’d believe that, I guess, that it was something we shared.”

That undid him somehow. He opened his mouth to answer but it turned to another choking cough. 

Instantly she right at his side, rubbing his arm and patting his back. “Shh, it’s okay, stay calm,” she murmured softly. “It’s okay,” she repeated, “You’re gonna be fine.”

He tried to concentrate on the reassurance in her voice, on her slow, calm tone. But just like every time she’d helped him with one of these attacks, he couldn’t stop being aware of her hand on his arm, of the feeling of her close and trying to help, even as he struggled for breath.

Finally the petal broke free. Sputtering and choking he spat it into his hand and quickly tucked it in his pocket. 

For a minute he just sat and concentrated on his breathing. Lup didn’t move, didn’t comment on the petal, she just stayed by his side. Instead of patting his back she rubbed her hand up and down in wide ovals. 

“Those treatments of Merle’s seem to be helping,” she said.

“I’m basically gargling with weed killer,” he joked. “I’d hope it would work.”

“What? Really?” Her hand stopped moving, resting lightly against his robe and he could swear he felt the heat of it even through his clothes.

He shrugged. “We figured out if we dilute it enough then it can’t poison me before the cycle’s up, but it still keeps the petals slowed enough that I can survive.”

She gave a brief, humorless laugh. “Shit. Well, whatever works I guess.”

She continued rubbing his back as they sat in silence for a moment.

“I guess if we can save the planes the Hunger eats then…” she paused and her voice was quiet when she continued. “Maybe we’ll be able to go back home eventually and you can…” Her mouth pulled into a curve that someone who hadn’t studied her expressions for 17 years might have called a smile. “There’s still hope, right?”

Barry shook his head. “Not seeing her again isn’t the problem.”

“Oh.” She stopped rubbing his back again and instead wrapped her arm around him and gave him a half hug. “I’m sorry. I guess I assumed since you were okay before we left…”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. He looked away and blinked quickly. He searched for something to say to change the topic. “What did, uh, what did Magnus mean ‘the ones who are staying’? Are there people who aren’t? What’s going on?”

Lup pulled her arm back from around him and seemed to shrink back into herself. “That power source we found?” she said, looking down at her hands in her lap. “It was the thing that lets the people here occupy the robots they inhabit, the thing that keeps them safe when those robots break. It’s incredibly powerful but it’s how all these people…”

“It’s how they stay alive,” Barry finished, as understanding dawned on him. “Oh gods, of course. We should have realized they would have something like that. Their technology must have been even more amazing than we first… wait. We’re taking it?”

Lup looked at him and her eyes were wide, her expression heavy with something that only made sense when she explained, “They wanted to destroy it so the Hunger couldn’t get it, couldn’t absorb that kind of power.”

“The robots?” he asked. 

She winced and shook her head. “No, the rest of the crew.”

“What?! We can’t...! That’s not...!” His hand covered his mouth for a moment then rubbed across his chin. “They didn’t, though.” He looked at her and another piece of the picture cleared in his head. “You stopped them.”

“Even if we can't save the planes that the Hunger eats, we can’t just destroy everything ourselves first,” she began. She sounded like she was launching her argument in a debate.

“No, absolutely,” he reassured her. “We don’t just kill the people we can’t save.”

The stiff posture she’d tensed into seemed to melt from her. Shoulders relaxing, Lup nodded and reached for his hand. “Yeah,” she said. “I wish you’d been down there.”

Shame coursed through him. “I’m sorry, Lup,” he told her. 

Releasing his hand again, she patted his leg then stood. “It’s cool, Barold. Everything worked out.” She ran her hands through her hair then smiled at him. “I’m gonna go check on Taako, see if he’s ready to let me help.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

Watching her leave, Barry made her a silent promise. Next time, he’d be there. Next time and every time. Always.


End file.
